


Last Voyage Home

by Stinkbuggy



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst, Character Death, Comfort, F/F, Heavy Angst, Loss, Purple Hawke, Sarcastic Hawke
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-24
Updated: 2020-10-24
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:27:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27173102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stinkbuggy/pseuds/Stinkbuggy
Summary: Isabela receives some devastating news about her lover Hawke, who the Inquisitor (bitch-ass) left in the Fade to face the Nightmare Demon. Heartbroken, she makes one last trip to Kirkwall to confide with Aveline, her last friend in Kirkwall.
Relationships: Female Hawke/Isabela
Kudos: 12





	Last Voyage Home

Last Voyage Home

Isabela stood on the deck of her ship “ _Siren’s Call II”_ and cast her gaze along the waters of the Waking Sea. It was a beautiful sunset, with the brilliant orange rays of the run staining the sea red. The gentle swaying of the ship seemed to caress its captain like a loving mother would console her crying child. Isabela always felt safest at sea; the seasickness never got to her. Her body was used to the heady rhythms of the sea. As her ship approached the docks of her destination, the sight of the grim statues called the Twins announced her destination: Kirkwall.

She never thought she would ever return to Kirkwall after fleeing the outbreak of the Mage Templar War. There was nothing good there. When asked by Hawke if she was sad to leave it behind after spending so many years there, Isabela laughed, “If I ever go back to that shithole, it’ll simply be too soon”. In reply, Hawke remarked in her usual amusing manner, “Oh, it’s not all that bad! Sure, there’s always blood in the streets and insane mages everywhere and even crazier templars, but it’s got a charm!”

“Are you sure it’s not just because you have a fancy mansion there?”

“Oh, that’s definitely part of it! And I hear they have a super badass Champion who is really funny. And has great tits”. Hawke and Isabela laughed together, a laugh they shared together often. Hawke always made Isabela laugh. They laughed when they were fighting, when they were drinking, and always when they were having sex. Before meeting her, Isabela never had thought she would let herself feel that way about someone else. Love was danger, and not the exciting kind of danger; it was danger where if you lost, you could never be the same. It was not death Isabela feared but hopelessness. She vowed to never feel that way again after her time as a married woman. Unfortunately for Isabela, she never kept her vows.

It had been a warm day in the port of Gwaren when Isabela received the news. A scrappy-looking courier boy had dashed up to her as she issued orders to her crew, who were restocking supplies for another voyage across the Sea.

“’Ello, milady! Are you cap’n Isabela? Letter for you.”

“Yes, that’d be me, little man.” Isabela took the letter from the boy and reached into one of her pockets for a sovereign, tossing it to the courier with a flourish. He thanked the captain profusely and set off excitedly, one sovereign richer. Before, Isabela would have never tipped so much for a simple letter; “it was her money, after all” she would have thought. But that was before meeting Hawke. Hawke had frustrated her to no end with how easily that woman gave away her coin when they first met. Now, it was her who was giving away coin. It was always her damned influence.

Isabela assumed the letter was from Hawke; she always had sent letters every now and then to her. When they separated from each other’s company so that Hawke could go to someplace called “Skyhold”, they agreed that Hawke would send letters to her at Gwaren and Isabela would send replies to Skyhold. More often than not, their letters were just the two women describing what they’d do to each other were they able to meet. With illustrations, too. It had been a while, however, since their last exchange, but Isabela knew better than to be worried. Hawke would never break her promise to stay alive. Isabela returned to her cabin to open the letter, but as she was reviewing the letter’s envelope in excitement, she noticed that it wasn’t from Hawke, but Varric.

“I hope he’s not asking me to edit some new serial of his,” Isabela thought to herself. Taking a letter opener, she sliced open the envelope to read the letter, which had been written in Varric’s steady handwriting. The letter was short, just a couple sentences really. “Totally not Varric’s style to be so concise”, Isabela thought. The first two sentences sent chills radiating down her spine, and made her stomach feel as if someone dropped a rock down her throat.

“ _Isabela, I’m sorry. Hawke is gone.”_

She didn’t quite remember the days that came after that. She might have been drunk; or was she? She couldn’t remember. The only thing she felt was an emptiness, a sinkhole opening in her chest that threatened to swallow her whole. Amid that haze, she made the decision to return to Kirkwall one last time. It was where she met Hawke, after all. Aveline was there too, the last of Hawke’s band to still be in Kirkwall. Everyone else had moved on from that graveyard. Aveline had built a life there; so did Varric, but the Inquisition had torn him away from that for the time being. Anders was dead, killed by his own bleeding heart, along with thousands of others. Sebastian was off playing Prince in Starkhaven. Fenris was somewhere killing slavers, and Merrill was helping elven refugees displaced by the war. Isabela herself left along with Hawke Isabela did not know exactly what compelled her to come back. Was it nostalgia? Or to say goodbye? Maybe it was just to talk to Aveline, as ridiculous as that sounded to her. Whatever her intentions, her ship docked at last, the dock’s workers scurrying to greet it. Few ships docked at Kirkwall anymore; if Kirkwall had a cursed reputation before, it was downright haunted now. Regardless, the city of Kirkwall once again beckoned before her, full of misery.

Stepping off her ship, Isabela was immediately approached by some of the dock workers who recognized her.

“Oy Cap’n Isabela! What brings you back to this pit?”

“I have some business here, gentlemen. Just make sure no one steals my ship, got it?

“You got it, Cap’n

Passing through the docks, familiar sights and smells reached her. Most of them were quite foul, like the sight of the former Qunari compound. It brought her back to the moment she knew was in love with Hawke. No other person could have compelled her to return the tome of Koslun. No other person would have fought the Arishok in a duel on her behalf. There would be never be another person like Hawke. Never. She passed from the docks and into Lowtown. The streets were the same as ever, filthy, full of life and death. Isabela was surprised to not see a dead body in the street. Maybe Kirkwall has changed, if not just a little bit. She made her way through the winding crooked streets of Lowtown and stopped in front of a familiar sign: a grotesque figure of a man hanging upside down. Smiling softly to her herself, Isabela stepped inside.

As soon as she stepped inside, she was immediately met by an over-enthusiastic greeting from the tavern’s bartender, Corff.

“Welcome to the Hanged Man! What can I get y…oh hell, is that you Isabela? Been a while!

“Sure has, Corff. What’s the word on the street?”

“City’s been quiet since the Anders incident. Viscount Bran and Guard-Captain Aveline have done pretty well sweeping away the debris…and the bodies. Things were pretty chaotic once the templar reinforcements swept in what with all the demons running around, but all them mages left didn’t have much fight left, I guess, and surrendered. I think everyone here had just quite enough of fighting; we haven’t seen any more battles, thank the Maker. Anyway, need a drink?”

“Yes, still know my usual?”

“Blackberry mead with only a little rat piss in it?”

Isabela laughed just a bit. “You got it.”.

Corff ducked behind his bar and poured out Isabela’s drink in one of the bar’s dirty pewter mugs. The Hanged Man was probably one of the worst taverns in Thedas, but it was where she spent the better part of six years. It was also where she met Hawke for the first time. Just for that, Isabela could stand to drink a little more of the tavern’s rat piss drinks. After receiving her drink, Isabela thanked Corff and slid over a couple silver, more than the drink was worth, to Corff. Instinctively, she moved to the corner of the tavern, to her usual table, one where she spent more than one night carving lewd drawings into during a protracted game of Wicked Grace. The tavern was empty, save for a few of its regulars huddled at their tables. Sitting down, she sighed to herself, once again feeling the emptiness of that hole in her chest. Any minute now, Hawke would walk in through the door, laughing about how she once knocked an Orlesian Duke off a cliff. Her eyes would meet Isabela’s and they’d rush each other and Isabela would whisk her away to have sex somewhere. That was not going to happen. Never again. Isabela had not cried since she heard the news, but she could feel tears welling up in her eyes as she thought about Hawke. Stifling them back, she swallowed down the rest of her drink. There she stayed for three hours, refilling her drink, until at last the person she was waiting for had come in.

Aveline marched through the door in her usual cautious manner when entering the Hanged Man, as if she expected someone to knife her. After all you weren’t a real regular at the Hanged Man until someone tries to stab you people would joke. Entering the tavern, Aveline scanned the room. The regulars in the tavern hushed their conversation, clearly apprehensive about the Guard-Captain showing up in the Hanged Man. Finding Isabela’s table, she immediately started walking towards Isabela, ignoring the cautious welcome offered by the tavern’s bartender. Isabela made eye contact with Aveline right as she stopped in front of her. Both their faces were expressionless.

“Isabela…”

Aveline grabbed Isabela’s arm and pulled her into her tight embrace. No words were spoken. For the first time since hearing the news of Hawke’s fate, Isabela felt tears rushing down her face. The world had gone mad; there were rifts in the sky, demons on the loose everywhere, and Isabela was crying in the arms of that mannish guardswoman she used to loathe.

“I’m sorry.”

Isabela wiped away her tears and composed herself, sitting back into her seat. Aveline sat across from her, silent and concerned. She was never good at this sort of thing, but she needed to be there for her friend, just like how she was there for Hawke when Leandra died. The two women sat in silence for a while, letting the silence drink away their grief. It was Aveline who finally broke that silence.

“So Isabela…what’s the plan here? Just drink until you can’t think? You could have at least chosen a nicer place…this place is a…

“Shithole?” Isabela made a joyless smirk.

“Well…yes. Never thought you’d come back to Kirkwall, but when I heard you were in the city, I knew you’d be here, somehow.”

“It’s where I met her.”

“I know”. Aveline was all too familiar with grief, but the loss of Hawke still stung deeply. Sometimes it felt like Hawke was the only person who could make her laugh. “She was my friend too”. She buried her hands in her coarse ginger hair and let out a deep sigh before speaking again. “But she was more to you than that.”

“Yes.” Isabela took the last of her drink and guzzled down the rest. The sting of the alcohol burned her throat. “I don’t suppose you’re here to tell me to stop moping and get sober, are you?” she asked, wiping her mouth.

“As if you’d listen. No, you grieve how you need to, Isabela. If you want to grieve by drowning yourself in mead, go ahead and I’ll be there to help you vomit it back up.

“A shame.” Isabela weakly laughed and then paused. “Aveline…was it like this when you lost Wesley?”

“Like what?”

“Like…there’s a emptiness that feels like it’ll never go away. Like nothing will be the same. She changed me, Aveline. And it feels like that change was for nothing. There wasn’t even a chance to say goodbye. I read a letter and that was it and then she’s gone.

“Isabela, I never stopped feeling that emptiness. I carry Wesley with me wherever I go, even when I’m with Donnic.

“That must make for awkward sex.”

Aveline chuckled softly, and continued, “Who says you have to move on? You don’t. You have Hawke with you even now, just by being the person she fell in love with. We don’t get to choose how people leave us, but we can choose how we remember them. That emptiness you feel…that’s grief. You turn the page on it when you are ready. And if you never do…then so be it. But don’t stop being the person Hawke believed you to be.

“And that person is…?”

Aveline grinned. “A slutty pirate. And a good person.”

When Isabela set off from Kirkwall later that night, she still felt that emptiness. But behind it was a resolve, and that resolve was to be the person Hawke knew she was. And she also had the resolve to kill the fuckers responsible for Hawke’s death. She had a dagger with a name on it and that name was Corypheus.


End file.
